Tell Me Something Good (16 page)

“I like the way you think. If I haven’t said it before, thank you so much for working so hard on this, Kelly.”

“You’re welcome, and congratulations. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.” Noelle disconnected the call and closed her eyes for a second. “My book is going to be published,” she whispered excitedly. “I have to tell somebody.” Her eyes snapped open and she rushed toward the dugout. She’d only taken two steps when she abruptly stopped. What was she doing? Why was Tate the first person she thought of? She should be calling Caitlin, her best friend, who had always been there for her. She had fun with Tate, but that’s all it was. All it could be. He’d be happy for her, she didn’t doubt, but still. Who knew how he felt about her?

Tate had made his anti-relationship feelings clear. But she didn’t think it was going too far to say he’d softened on his position after the closeness and confidences they’d shared. Noelle scrubbed a hand across her face. Hell, maybe she was deluding herself, trying to force him into a mold he had no intention of fitting into. She couldn’t make him feel what he didn’t.

Could she move to Chicago? Walk away from him?
No. Anything but that
. Her heart pounded in rebellion. Noelle sighed. But did she have a choice? She’d known from the start that their relationship came with an expiration date.

A few weeks ago she couldn’t have imagined a fate worse than losing her listeners. Now she knew differently. Tate had blasted his way into her heart by being charming and funny and infuriating and caring. By being Tate.

What a mess she, the so-called relationship expert, had made of her life.

It was time to admit the truth to herself. After all the time she spent convinced she’d never find love, that she didn’t deserve love, it was crazy to think she’d found it with the unlikeliest person imaginable. But she had.

She loved Tate. She
loved
Tate. A joy like she’d never felt before pumped through her body. And now that she’d admitted the truth to herself, it was time to admit the truth to Tate.

What if he didn’t feel the same way?

Wasn’t it time she found out?

Noelle squared her shoulders, pushing aside the trepidation threatening to overtake her joy. Yes, it was. Even if it wouldn’t be easy.

…

Tate peeked at Noelle out of the corner of his eye. They were supposed to be watching a movie, but she’d been acting weird since he showed up at her place. Who was he kidding? She’d been acting strange since the end of their show yesterday. Slightly distant. So slight he’d almost been convinced he was imagining it.

But he’d had to admit he wasn’t losing it when she’d spoken maybe ten words at the game, especially after that phone call. When they’d arrived at her house after the game, she’d run from task to task—from making dinner to changing her mind about what she wanted to make halfway through the process to cleanup to the movie choice. “Let’s watch
The Dark Knight Rises
. No,
The Avengers
.” They’d finally settled on
The Hunger Games
.

But even that hadn’t calmed her down. Yeah, she sat on the couch next to him, but she was biting her lip and tapping her fingers on her thigh. What the hell was going on? He didn’t think he’d done anything. He didn’t think. But who knew what went on in that head of hers?

His whole body tensed. Maybe she’d gotten tired of being with him. His mind immediately shouted “no.” Except it shouldn’t. They’d agreed to keep things casual. It was all he could offer. All he knew how to offer.

He also knew their relationship hadn’t run its course yet.

“Do you want popcorn? We need popcorn.” She’d jumped up from the sofa and taken three quick steps before he registered what was happening.

He caught up with her, stopping her with a hand on her arm. “Doc, wait.”

She turned. “What? Don’t you want popcorn? We need popcorn.” She moved to go around him, but he stopped her by grasping both arms.

Tate peered deep into her eyes, noting the unrest in them.
Don’t panic
. “What’s going on?”

Her gaze skittered away. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

“The fact that you won’t look me in the eye. You never have trouble doing that even when I’m at my annoying best.”

She offered him a quick half smile before pulling away. “Cute.”

She took off for the kitchen. He was right behind her. He said nothing as she opened a cupboard and retrieved a bag of popcorn. As she stuck the bag in the microwave and started the machine.

Tate leaned against the counter. “Are you ready to talk now?”

Her eyes darted around, obviously looking for something, anything to do. She opened another cabinet, took out a large bowl, and set it on the countertop.

“Now are you ready to talk?”

Noelle pressed her fingers against her forehead. “Sorry. I’ve been distracted. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“I can tell.”

She looked up at him and he sent her a sardonic look. Her lips quirked. “Right. I guess I’ve been acting a little strange.”

“As you’re always saying, communication is the key to making any relationship work, so start talking.”

“Who knew my own words would come back to bite me in the butt?” she said with a wry chuckle, rubbing her forehead.

“Stop trying to distract me. Start talking.”

“I got an offer for my book.” She said it with no expression in her voice.

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me? That’s amazing!” He bounded to her, picked her up, and twirled her in a circle. Noelle yelped in surprise and then laughed. Much better. He smacked a kiss on her lips before lowering her to the ground. Her smile died a slow, but steady, death.

His heartbeat quickened. “What’s wrong?”

“I…”

The microwave buzzed. She made a move toward it, but he stopped her again with a hand on her arm. “The popcorn can wait. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Something I’ve been working on and dreaming about forever is about to come true,” she said brightly. Too brightly.

Tate narrowed his eyes. “You know you can’t lie worth a damn, so tell me what’s bothering you.”

Noelle took a deep breath. “The publishing company is owned by a larger media conglomerate.”

“Okay.”

“Some of their holdings include radio stations.”

“And?”

“They want me to move to Chicago and do my show for their station there.”

A loud buzzing went off in Tate’s ears. It took a second for him to recognize it as the microwave alerting them that it had finished the popcorn a minute ago. Noelle went over and took out the bag, releasing the fragrant aroma of popcorn and butter into the air. Such a friendly, familiar smell, but it nauseated him. She was leaving?

He cleared his throat. “What did you tell them?”

His heart threatened to claw its way out of his chest while he waited for her response.

“I told them I’d have to think about it.”

A rush of relief almost waylaid him. He shook his head, hoping to clear it. “What do you have to think about? Chicago is a huge market. They’re going to publish your book.”

“I know. That’s what I’ve been telling myself. I would be an absolute fool to turn down this opportunity.”

He turned to the counter, gripping the granite hard with both hands, taking a moment to try to compose himself. What was he supposed to say? “Right.”

“But then…”

Tate whirled around. “But then what?”

“But then I started thinking about what was holding me back from saying yes.” She dropped her face into her hand. “Why is this so hard?”

“What’s so hard?”
Stay calm
.
Breathe
. What was she about to say?

“Telling you how I feel. I’m the queen of ‘communicate, communicate’ and the one time I need to do so, I can’t get the words out.” She paced back and forth a few times. “Not that I’m ashamed of how I feel. But maybe I should be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that I love you,” she blurted out. “Of course, I feel really dumb for feeling this way, but I can’t help it. I’m supposed to be celebrating, but all I can think about is how this affects us.”

“I…”

She stopped directly in front of him. “Exactly. Then I feel stupid even thinking about it because you’ve been blatantly clear about your thoughts on love. I would be stupid to think I had the power to change thirty-plus years of thinking.”

“Don’t call yourself stupid.”

Gray eyes pinned him to the spot. “Why not? Do you love me?”

His brain shut down. No other way to describe it. No thoughts in. No thoughts out.

Noelle stared at him, torment filling her beautiful eyes. She let out a mirthless laugh. “Exactly. And you say I shouldn’t call myself stupid.”

“You should go to Chicago.” The words pained him, but they were the right words. What did he have to offer her? He didn’t know how to commit. He didn’t know what love was. He’d never felt it, certainly not if it was supposed to be a healthy emotion, like others claimed. She deserved better than him, more than what he could give her. “I don’t want to stand in your way. Don’t pass up this opportunity because of me.”

“How do you feel about me, Tate?” she asked in her straightforward way.

“I…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me what you’re feeling.” Her eyes pleaded with him for the truth.

So he ordered himself to give her the only truth that mattered even though he could barely force the words out. “I feel you should take the job. WTLK is still in turmoil, and this is a terrific opportunity.”

Noelle rolled her lips inward and nodded. “What about us? You won’t even consider a long-distance relationship?”

He couldn’t let her give up her dream for him. He wouldn’t let her put her life on hold for him. He wasn’t worth it. “We always said this was temporary, and when it ended, we would go our separate ways with no hard feelings.”

“The fact that I love you, does that not count for anything?”

His heart lurched. It was the first time he’d heard those words from someone who probably honestly felt like she meant them. His parents threw the words around like they were door prizes. He couldn’t say the words back to her. How was he supposed to know how he felt? He’d lived his life in the shallow end of the pool, never letting anyone or anything affect him too deeply. Now she expected him to jump into the deep end with no training or understanding of how not to drown? “It does. I…I…thank you.”

Noelle spun away, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. “Wow. I really am stupid. Beyond stupid.”

“You knew how I was when we started this.”

She nodded. “I did, and I have no one to blame but myself. How could I be so stupid?”

He grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him. “Hey. You’re not stupid.”

She yanked away from his hold. Away from him. It hurt like hell.

“Yes, I am,” she said matter-of-factly. “I knew how you were and I don’t blame you for being you. You’ve been nothing but honest with me. I’m the one who thought I was so smart and I could handle it. The truth is I couldn’t. My emotions became involved, while you
chilled
the whole time.”

He winced at her blunt tone. “Doc, don’t put it that way. I care about you.”

“But you don’t love me.” She blinked rapidly, her hand clutching her chest like she was having trouble breathing. “I guess it was fun while it lasted.”

Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had. Damn. He’d known he was no good for her. His voice quieted. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”

“Don’t be. The funny thing is I’ve never asked you to be anything other than who you are. You have so much to give. You’ve already given me so much, simply by being you. You sell yourself short.”

“I’m not the man you think I am.”

She cupped his cheek, her soft touch offering comfort, understanding. “Yes, you are. I believe in you. What I want is for you to stop being scared and believe in yourself and what you have to offer. Find what you’re passionate about, something you believe in, and go for it.”

He could do her one better. He had to say it. For her. “I already know what I believe. You should take the job.”

Noelle stepped away, her eyes probing his for the longest time. He forced himself not to look away. Finally, she nodded. “You’re right. I should.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Dude, what is your problem?” Bobby asked.

Tate took a pull from his beer. “Nothing.” He slammed the bottle on the bar and raised his eyes to the TV on the wall.

“I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

Tate grunted.

“You know I don’t usually do the feelings thing, but if you need to talk, I’m here,” Bobby said.

Tate felt Bobby eyeing him, waiting for him to spill his guts. Yeah, right. He’d be waiting a long time. All he wanted to do was watch baseball and not think about She Who Shall Not Be Named. So they’d broken up. Or whatever the hell you called it when you stopped seeing someone. They’d never really defined their relationship.

Good thing, too. Or else he might feel bad. Instead, all he felt was numb. And he was getting more numb by the second thanks to the free-flowing alcohol. He took another slug of beer. The tension in his shoulders relaxed fractionally when he felt his producer’s eyes leave him.

“Steven Jenkins’s knuckleball is unbelievable tonight,” Bobby said. “It hasn’t been this good in a few weeks.”

Yeah, not since the night he and Noelle had done their show at this very same bar and he taught her the finer points of the knuckleball. The memory made him smile. Then it made him hurt more than any innocuous memory had a right to. A stab to the heart with a knife sharpened to the finest edge would have felt better.

“Noelle and I are through.” Damn, he hadn’t meant to admit that out loud. Hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself.

Bobby sighed, but he at least gave Tate the courtesy of not taking his eyes off the TV. “I kind of figured that. You’ve been acting weird and avoiding her like the plague. The question is what are you going to do about it?”

Tate whipped his head toward his best friend. “Do about it? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you want her back, don’t you?”

“Why would I want that? Relationships end. All of them. This is no different.”

“Isn’t it?”

Tate recoiled at the skepticism in Bobby’s voice. “No, it’s not. We had a fling. No more. No less.”

“Then why are you gripping that bottle so hard it’s half a second away from shattering?”

Tate unbent his fingers, although the effort it took pained and unnerved him. “I’m fine.”

He would be. This is why he didn’t believe in love. People who believed in love were vulnerable. They opened themselves to pain. As for him? He was simply going through a tough stretch. He’d pull through. He always had. He always would. He was a little down because he was usually the one to end things, and he hadn’t expected the thing with Noelle to end so abruptly.

In any case, the truth remained that he didn’t have what Noelle needed. She’d find a man who believed like she did, who could make her happy. He, on the other hand, would go back to living the life he led before they got involved. He had a good life.

He was fine. If he told himself that enough, it would eventually be true.

…

“Mom, you look beautiful.”

Tate met his mother’s eyes in the antique, stand-alone mirror in her bedroom. Well, his parents’ bedroom now, technically. His father had cheerfully informed him he’d scheduled movers to bring his belongings to the house the next day. When Tate jokingly questioned him about a honeymoon, his dad said he planned to move in and get on with life. Honeymoons were nice, he added, but they weren’t a true reflection of what marriage was about.

Tate had let the matter drop. No point in voicing his doubt that his parents had any idea what marriage was about. His parents wouldn’t listen to their only child about matters of the heart. They never had before. Still, he’d be there to pick up the pieces when the marriage fell apart. Like always.

His mother gestured for him to come farther into the room. He made his way to her side and looked into the mirror. In her late fifties, Desiree still struck a pretty picture. Tate had gotten his stature and bearing from his father, but his eyes and facial features were all mom.

“You look beautiful,” he repeated. He meant it. She wore a pale gold suit, the skirt skimming her knees. Her hair, a striking steel gray, was cut into a shoulder-length style with strands curling around her face, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and amber eyes.

“Tate, you get more handsome every time I see you.”

“Thanks.”

“You remind me so much of your father, always hiding your feelings behind an easy smile.”

Now was
not
the time to get into this. He broke her gaze to tug on his blazer sleeves. When her soft hand landed on his, he lifted his eyes to meet hers in the mirror again.

“I know you think we’re crazy, but we know what we’re doing. This time it’s for real.” Her expression asked for understanding and acceptance.

Not wanting to upset his mother, Tate tugged his lips upward. “The only thing I want is for you, both of you, to be happy.”

“We’ve always wanted the same for you.” She squeezed his hand. “Even when we were starring in our own soap opera.”

“I know,” he said, not letting his smile falter, determined to block out painful memories. “Are you ready to become Mrs. Grayson again?”

“Yes.” A bright smile infused her face with joy.

How long would the happiness last? Who knew? But worrying about it would solve nothing. He was here to be a son to his parents. They loved him, even if putting him first had never been their top priority. Today was about today. The future would come soon enough.

“Then let’s get this show on the road.” Tate offered his arm and escorted her downstairs.

The massive backyard of her sprawling mansion was decorated simply, but elegantly. In deference to the heat, a large, white canopy had been set up. Flowers from the gardens that dominated the yard added bright splashes of color. He supposed the simplicity was progress. It was their sixth wedding after all, as his mom had joked. Their previous weddings had all been lavish affairs with a destination wedding to the Caribbean on both sides thrown in for good measure.

The small gathering of guests were already seated. Tate’s two aunts, one uncle, their children. A few of his parents’ closest friends, who’d all known him since he was a baby. They’d tried to convince him that this time was different. He’d listened politely and then directed the conversation elsewhere. He’d heard it all before. He’d stopped believing at the third wedding when he was eleven.

Tate and Desiree took their places. His father, Ben, waited at the end of the aisle. Tate had to admit the old man hadn’t looked this happy in a long time. His grin literally spread from ear to ear. He rocked back and forth on his heels like an eager six-year-old in line to visit a mall Santa.

At the first chords of the “Bridal Chorus,” the guests stood. Tate stared straight ahead as he escorted his mother down the aisle. One foot in front of the other. Get through the ceremony and then he could go home and watch baseball and not think. A sound plan if ever there was one.

They reached the end of the aisle. At that moment, the absurdity of the situation hit him. Although he was thirty-one years old, he was giving away his mother at his parents’ wedding. Not a vow renewal. Oh, no. That would be too normal. He bit his lip hard to keep the laughter from escaping. Maybe he was losing his mind. Then he met his father’s eyes. They were dancing. Maybe his dad did understand how weird all of this was even if it had been his idea. Tate suddenly felt better. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe his parents would get it right this time.

“Treat each other right,” Tate said gruffly.

“Count on it, son,” his dad answered.

His mother squeezed his hand before placing her hand in his father’s. Tate stared at the connection, the symbol of the bond his parents were trying to recreate. They smiled at each other before turning to the officiant.

Tate took his place at his father’s side. He glanced into the audience.

Only to receive the biggest shock of his life.

Even more than when Deb informed him that he and Noelle were doing a show together or when Noelle told him she got a job offer in Chicago.

Noelle sat in the last row.

What was she doing here? They hadn’t talked since they’d ended things. He’d assumed she wouldn’t come.

She looked more beautiful than any woman had any right to. She wore a light purple dress. Her hair cascaded down her back, the sun adding a lustrous sheen to the strands. She caught him staring and nodded once, offering a small smile.

His heart, initially shocked to quiet, resumed beating at triple time. Joy, confusion, and uncertainty at her presence bombarded his brain. The officiant’s voice cut into his reverie, and he tuned back into the ceremony.

He could—no, make that
would
—question her later.

He managed to concentrate long enough during the short ceremony to do his duty as best man, handing over the rings at the appropriate time. The same rings his parents had exchanged over thirty years ago. According to them, they’d never been able to part with them. A loud cheer went up when they were declared husband and wife. Tate watched with a lifted brow as his father bent his mother over his right arm and laid a movie-worthy kiss on her.

Tate snuck a quick peek at Noelle. She beamed at the happy couple. A romantic to the core.

His parents practically skipped down the aisle. He followed at a more sedate pace. They adjourned to the home’s interior to greet guests. He shook hands, smiled, and accepted congratulations. He had no clue what he said, but it must have made sense. No one said anything to the contrary or looked at him like he was crazy. Good thing because he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman about halfway through the line. She was talking to his Uncle Warner, his mom’s brother, who’d always fancied himself a lady’s man. His uncle rested a hand at her waist, no doubt in a guise to guide her forward. Tate’s jaw tightened. She had a PhD. She didn’t need any help moving down a receiving line.

Tate balled his hand against his leg and planted his feet to stop himself from walking over and pushing his uncle’s arm away. He shook his head. Was he crazy? He had no claim on her. He’d willingly given that up.

He drew in a deep breath when she stepped in front of him, catching a whiff of the lavender scent he would forever associate with her. He surveyed her from the top of her hair down to the stilettos that displayed her legs to maximum advantage. Stunning. No other word for it. His fingers itched with the desire to touch her. It had been too long. Seven whole days. Not that he was counting.

Noelle met his gaze straight on. “Tate,” she said, calm and cool.

He had to give it to her. She always stood her ground with him.

A clearing throat coming from his left reminded him they weren’t alone. He turned toward his parents, who wore identical, nosy facial expressions. “Tate, aren’t you going to introduce us?” his mother asked.

“Yes. Mom, Dad, this is Dr. Noelle Butler. Noelle, these are my parents, Ben and Desiree.”

Noelle held out her hand. “What a lovely ceremony. Congratulations.”

His parents each took a turn shaking her hand and murmuring their thanks.

“I don’t want to hold up the line. I know I’m not the only guest,” Noelle said. “It was nice meeting you.” With her head held high, she continued into the dining room. Tate watched until she disappeared from view. He turned back to the receiving line and found his parents still giving him the same pointed looks.

He was having none of it. He didn’t have any answers. His brain was still having a hard time accepting that she was there.

“Uncle Warner, I’m glad you could make it.” He shook his uncle’s hand and withstood the way-too-hardy pat on the back.

“I wouldn’t miss this party for the world. You know what they say. The second time’s the charm.” Warner added a hearty laugh and another slap on Tate’s back.

The jokes kept coming. His parents took it in stride. Tate just wanted it to be over so he could talk to Noelle.

Why was she here? Did she see him as one of her callers, someone who needed her help to get through the day? Was she hoping to rekindle their relationship? And if she was? He wouldn’t agree to a reconciliation. Ending things was for the best. For the both of them. No matter how shitty he felt right now. The pain would pass. It always did. Although this pain seemed to be holding on for dear life.

But how was he supposed to move on if she wouldn’t let him? Anger thrummed through his veins.

He followed his parents into the dining room. The party was already underway, the wine flowing freely and conversation and laughter abounding. His eyes, entirely of their own accord, zoomed in on Noelle. She sat halfway down the long banquet table between his two chatterbox aunts, neither of whom needed a partner to carry on a conversation. As long as the other person nodded and threw in an occasional “Uh-huh,” Aunt Carole and Aunt Evelyn were good to go.

Carole gestured toward the head of the table where he and his parents stood. Noelle looked his way. He tried to read her face, but she gave nothing away.

He took his seat next to his parents and resolved not to obsess about why Noelle was there. His questions would be answered soon enough. He’d make damn sure of it.

…

“Care to dance?”

Noelle turned at the warm, oh-so-familiar voice coming from behind her right shoulder. Tate had only gotten more handsome in their time apart. She’d thought him incredibly good-looking in a suit, but he exuded unmatched magnetism in the tuxedo, which skimmed his broad shoulders, his wide chest, his long, strong legs. She hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off him during the ceremony.

She loved him so much. “Yes, I’d like that.”

He grasped her hand and led her into a corner of the darkened ballroom, away from most of the other dancers. She rested her left hand on his shoulder and focused on their joined hands. Her heart still worked, but she wasn’t sure how. Since
that night
, the pulse had thudded weakly, like it was working on autopilot, but wasn’t in the mood to do any heavy lifting. Now, it pounded like it had received a jolt from the paddles they used in hospital emergency rooms.