“I don’t believe in fate.” Noah pulled out his phone and dialled. The letting agent answered. “Noah Dashwood here, I was around earlier—”
“Noah, glad to hear from you. Look, we’ve just had another couple show serious interest in the place. If you can get here within the hour, it’s yours, otherwise I’ll have to pass it on.”
“An hour?” A complex blend of fear and relief washed through him. His options were limited enough as it was. But nothing about that place had called home. “In that case, go with them.”
He hung up, eyes not leaving Wade’s grinning face.
“See, fate.”
A laugh overrode the unease in Noah’s belly. “Off you go, then.” Wade threw him a look of confusion. “The garage?”
“Right. Yes, I’ll just . . .” Wade booted off down the road, and Noah shook his head.
He absorbed the sunlight and peered at the precious contents of Wade’s toolbox. Everything looked very . . . cared for. Half this stuff looked completely alien; he’d never cared much about this sort of thing, but now he wanted to understand each one, wanted to picture how Wade would use it. He picked up . . . something, and studied it.
His skin prickled and he looked up to see Wade returning, dimple as deep as Noah had ever seen it. “They can get the part I need but only tomorrow morning at the earliest.”
“Tomorrow?”
“They gave us the name of an inn.”
Noah took a moment to catch up. “There’s a bus back to Port Ratapu.”
Wade’s eyes darted sideways. “Not keen on leaving my car here. I also don’t fancy a winding bus trip with someone in the back puking.”
Noah considered the situation. His Sunday was free. Brunch had been cancelled since Finley and Ethan were off on their honeymoon, and Wentworth and Elliot were sailing down the coast. He folded his arms.
“What do you think?” Wade asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to leave you out here alone.”
Wade stepped through the plush seating area crowding the inn reception and leaned on the counter. He smelled like car and the soap he’d scrubbed up with in the guest bathroom.
“There a holdup?”
Noah rubbed his nape. “They’re checking if there’s a bed for me in one of the dorm rooms.”
“Can’t we share?”
“Theoretically.”
“Theoretically?”
The assistant looked up from their screen, thick glasses glinting. “I’m sorry, we only have the double room.”
Wade slapped a palm on the marble. “Great, we’ll take it.”
Noah lowered his voice. “It only has one bed.”
Wade starting waving that off and stopped. “Is that a problem for you?”
“I thought it might be one for you.”
Wade turned to the assistant, pulling out his wallet. “Visa okay?”
Together they shuffled down a short, wallpapered hall to their room.
They spent an inordinate amount of time cataloguing the bird motifs on the curtains and cushions and gazing at the painting of Cubworthy’s sheep-filled hills, neither acknowledging the elephant-sized bed in the room.
They looked at one another, floral blankets in their periphery. Wade clapped his palms together. Noah rubbed his nape.
“So,” they said at the same time, and chuckled.
“There’s, uh, a stretch of the Ratapu Walkway not far away. If you feel like a hike?”
Noah tickled from scalp to foot as he trudged over muddy paths—and it had nothing to do with the fern fronds brushing against his hands and calves.
He side-eyed Wade, who breathed heavily beside him.
Their gazes kept snagging, but that . . . didn’t seem to be moving things forward. Noah cleared his throat—
“When does this hill end?” Wade stopped, palming his knees.
Noah spared him speech and offered him one of the water bottles from the car instead. To be that bottle of water . . .
Wade sleeved his mouth dry and continued up the path with grim determination. Kea-like persistence. He was clever like that too—a problem solver. Noah felt an involuntary grin emerging as he pictured the expression on Wade’s face at that sad townhouse, his determination as he tried to help.
Perhaps . . . an albatross. Protective and loyal.
“What are you thinking about?” Wade asked.
Noah flushed. “Uh, just . . . thinking.”
The next silence felt loaded. “I’m sorry, Noah. Selling your home like this must be hard.”
“Thank you. I-I hope your sister creates many magical memories there.”
Wade scoffed. “As much as I appreciate my sister, I’m not sure she and anything magical go together.”
Noah could not disagree.
Wade watched him. “You used to be friends. A long time ago.”
Noah rolled his shoulders. He didn’t like to be reminded of the friendship he and Franny had then.
Wade grimaced. “Was that insensitive?”
“It’s fine. We were close. She . . . didn’t get why I needed to change.”
Wade nodded sadly. “I hate how she treated you yesterday. How do you do it?”
He frowned. “Do what?”
“Be so reasonable? I wanted to throttle her, and she’s my own sister.”
Combing his hand over nearby fronds, he smiled. “You know, it makes me unreasonably happy to hear you say that.”
