“How does your mother feel about Noah helping out?”

“Well, she was very suspect of his intentions at first, but she’s calmed down about that—especially after she got a look at the freshly painted boathouse.” I chuckled. “He’s started fixing things on the main property now—installed a new hot water heater, replaced a couple of windows, things like that. He’s really a jack of all trades, used to work in construction. Mom still stays in her room most of the day, but she’s come out once or twice to say hello to him, and she even apologized for being rude to him early on.”

“It sounds like Noah’s being there has turned out to be a really great thing.”

“Yeah. Almost like he was sent from above.”

My feelings for Noah had only grown over the past couple of weeks. I felt so safe with him around. We’d hung out a lot, talked a lot. The front porch of the boathouse had become our place. I’d watch him smoke his one cigar—never two—and we’d sit and talk about anything and everything, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning. Things had stayed platonic, and I was more convinced than ever about that not changing. But it still hurt a little. I wanted him more each day and couldn’t imagine how I was going to feel after he left. I knew for sure he was someone I would never forget.

After I got off the phone with Dr. Vaughan, I opened my journal as I often did after clearing my head in therapy. While I typically wrote down my thoughts and feelings, today my head was in a totally different space. Maybe it was all that talk about Noah not wanting me, but all I could seem to focus on was how much I wanted him and ridding myself of some of this pent-up frustration. If I couldn’t actually have him, I would let it all out on the pages of my journal. No holds barred, I wrote out my greatest sexual fantasy, including all the things I wished he would do to me.***Noah: It’s 10PM. Do you know where your dog is?That’s a strange question.Heather: Downstairs. I think?Noah: Pretty sure that’s not the case, considering I can’t get him off my bed right now.Oh my God. What?Heather: Really? That’s scary! How did he get out?Noah: Well, I’d ask him but…Heather: How long has he been there?Noah: He showed up at my door fifteen minutes ago.Heather: Be right there.As terrifying as it was that Teddy had escaped, given his destination, I couldn’t help but laugh as I ran to the boathouse.

Noah opened the door before I had a chance to knock. Just as he’d said, Teddy had completely taken over the bed. He looked so comfortable.

“I’m sorry about this.”

Noah shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“He must have remembered the time I brought him here when you first moved in. He knew exactly where to find you.”

“He was sitting on the porch when I went out to have a cigar—like he was waiting for me.”

“That’s so cute. I’m glad he had the good sense to come here and not run away.” I patted my thighs. “Come on, Teddy. Let’s go.”

“He can stay.” Noah took a sip of his wine. There was an open bottle on the counter. I wished I could join him, but I knew how he felt about offering me alcohol.

“I figured you wanted me to come get him.”

He waved his hand. “Nah. He’s fine.”

“Well, he doesn’t exactly look ready to go anyway, I suppose.”

I looked around, then removed my shoes. It was strange to be inside the boathouse with Noah for once. I could thank Teddy for this opportunity. I hopped up on the bed and rubbed my dog while Noah took a seat across from us and kicked his legs up on the foot of the bed. With his big feet facing me, I was tempted to press the bottoms of mine against his.

But I refrained, of course.

Teddy was the perfect buffer to keep my hanging out on the bed from being awkward. The scent of Noah emanating from his sheets surrounded me. Teddy definitely had the right idea.

Noah looked particularly hot tonight. He wore these gray sweatpants that hugged his crotch in a way that left little to the imagination. It was hard not to gawk at his amazing body.

Don’t look down. He’s going to catch you.

If not me…what was Noah’s type? I often wondered about the woman he’d been married to.

“Do you have any photos of your ex-wife?”

He squinted. “Random much? Where did that come from?”

“Do you expect anything less from me? I laughed. “It just came to mind. I’ve always been curious as to what she looks like.”

“Yeah. Hang on.”

Noah pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos. My heart sped up in anticipation. He handed it to me.